United States or Brunei ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
They are a' on the road to be maisters. Malcolm is a clever loon but he has a wee bee in his bonnet." The old lady smiled quizzically at her big, serious-faced son. "Noo, mither, ye're just talkin' havers," he said. "My mother is as great a Socialist as I am." "Ay, but A keep ma heid." "That ye do, mither.
Ye micht hae run awa' frae me lang or noo, an' a'body wad hae said ye did richt. Robert, play a spring. Absorbed in his own thoughts, Robert began to play The Ewie wi' the Crookit Horn. 'Hoots! hoots! cried Sandy angrily. 'What are ye aboot? Nae mair o' that. I hae dune wi' that. What's i' the heid o' ye, man? 'What'll I play than, Sandy? asked Robert meekly.
Steenie!" and I cried lood oot, "Comin, Lord!" but I kent weel eneuch the v'ice was inside o' me, and no i' my heid, but i' my hert and nane the less i' me for that! Sae awa at ance I cam to my closet here, and sat doon, and hearkent i' the how o' my hert. Never a word cam, but I grew quaiet eh, sae quaiet and content like, wi'oot onything to mak me sae, but maybe 'at he was thinkin aboot me!
I had the haill thing throu' my heid last nicht, an' I canna but think there's something wrang wi' a man gien he canna hear the word o' God as weel i' the mids o' a multitude no man can number, a' made ilk ane i' the image o' the Father as weel, I say, as i' the hert o' win' an' watter an' the lift an' the starns an' a'. Ye canna say 'at thae things are a' made i' the image o' God, in the same w'y, at least, 'at ye can say 't o' the body an' face o' a man, for throu' them the God o' the whole earth revealed Himsel' in Christ."
But I jist want to live lang eneuch to lat the Lord ken 'at I'm in doonricht earnest aboot it. I hae nae chance o' drinkin' as lang's I'm lyin' here. 'Never ye fash yer heid aboot that. He'll see 'at ye're a' richt. Dinna ye think 'at he'll lat ye aff. 'The Lord forbid, responded the soutar earnestly. 'It maun be a' pitten richt. It wad be dreidfu' to be latten aff.
"Really, ma'am, one would think you were my grandmother, to hear you order my affairs for me." "I wuss I war, my lord: I sud gar ye hear rizzon upo' baith sides o' yer heid, I s' warran'!" The marquis laughed. "Well, I can't stand here all day!" he said, impatiently swinging one leg. "I 'm weel awaur o' that, my lord," answered Miss Horn, rearranging her scanty skirt.
"I dinna mak heid nor tail o' 't, sir," he answered, looking over the top of the paper like a prisoned sheep. Mr. Simon took it from him, and handed him another. "Try that," he said. Cosmo read, put his hand to his head, and looked troubled. "Don't distress yourself," said Mr. Simon. "The thing is of no consequence for judgment; it is only for discovery."
The tune I've been hearin' 'ill come into my heid at a' times; an' here I'll be maybe croonin' awa' i' the shop to mysel' "Will ye no' come back again?" an' gien somebody mustard instead o' peysmeal, an', of coorse, it comes back again, an' a gey wey o' doin' wi't, an' nae mistak'. But, eh, I enjoyed the Burns Club concert!
"God's life," says Dan, as we muffled ourselves for our tramp "God's life, Hamish, he's queer names for things, that uncle o' yours; there's nae prank in my heid this night a queer prank it would be no' tae warn McGilp," and as we tramped through the kitchen where the lassies were coorieing over the fire telling bawkin stories, and edging closer to the farm lads for comfort when the gale moaned and whined in the wide chimney as we tramped through, old Betty took Dan by the sleeve.
Oh, no, I can stand a lot; but you'll find oot that Mag Robertson hasna selt her a' tae you, without driving a hard bargain afore she lets you alone. You can gang back to your tippy wee baggage! Gang to hell, baith you an' her, an' joy be wi' you baith! But I'll put a sprag in your wheel afore you gang far. Mind that! By I will! She'll nae toss her heid as she gangs past me as if I was dirt.
Word Of The Day